Getting Dolled Up

I don't really remember playing dress up much when I was little, which isn't surprising because I don't remember much of growing up. At least not on my own, anyway. When some one says "Hey remember when we use to play band in your living room and you played the laundry basket drums with books for cymbals?" I'm like, "Oh, yea, I totally forgot about that!" But heaven forbid I have to recall something on my own.

Anyway, back to dressing up...

I may not (or lets face it, may have) played dress up much as a child, but now I love to dress up. There is nothing better than an amazing pair of heels with a fierce dress, or a cute pair of boots with a dark colored skinny jean and a trendy top, ahhh if only I was rich with an unending wardrobe.

I like feeling girly and I like feeling pretty. Who doesn't? When I look good and am dressed up, my day seems to go better. I can take on the world with a sass that is just unrivaled. Look at me all looking good and stuff, oh yea.

I often wish that I lived in an era where it was appropriate to leave my house dressed to the nines just to go grocery shopping. I would have been that 50's housewife in my a-line skirt and apron. Super sexist, ultra un-feminist, ehh, so what. It is what it is, or rather, I am what I am.

With all of that being said, I am not naive enough to think that if I actually lived in the above described era, that I wouldn't get tired of dressing up all the time and want to live in an era where it's perfectly acceptable to leave the house in yoga pants. I also know for a fact that I am just too lazy to dress up and do my hair and make-up, and shave, and blah blah blah.... Every.Stinkin.Day.

Do you see my quandary? I need to be fancy and cute and girly, but my want for an extra 15 30 40 minutes of sleep far out weighs that need.

to the moon and back,